Of Pandas and Pompoms
by noworneverland
Summary: Freechamp domestic fluff. Rita and Connie relax in each other's company after a long day's work. Oneshot.


**Hello! This is my first time writing for the Casualty fandom, despite having been watching for a good five or so years. I'm not really sure what happened with this - it started with a pompom and snowballed into mindless Freechamp fluff.**

 **Feedback would be greatly appreciated, and thanks for reading!**

* * *

Connie was in the kitchen trying to find the other oven glove when she heard a clatter in the hallway that could only be one person.

"I'm home!" Rita hollered, hanging up her coat and trudging through towards the delicious smell. "Looking for this?" She waved the glove, wedged under the microwave, at her girlfriend and smirked at the exasperated expression thrown in her direction. Connie grabbed it and rescued their dinner before it burnt (she was not giving Rita the satisfaction, thank you very much), before shedding gloves and apron to properly greet her other half. Rita happily wrapped her arms around Connie's waist and rose up on tiptoes for a kiss.

"How was the rest of your shift?" Connie asked, breathing in the familiar scent with a sigh. Rita shrugged.

"Alright," she said. "Would have been better with you there." Connie detached herself to grab a pair of plates.

"I'd much rather have been on shift with you too, but you know how it is."

The pair slipped into comfortable silence as they set the table, before sitting down and letting themselves relax in each other's company. Within minutes, Rita was brandishing her fork at Connie in excitement.

"There's another karaoke night coming up," she said. "You've got to come to this one, you can't dodge them forever!"

"Oh Rita, you know I don't sing – not in front of an audience, anyway," Connie clarified after Rita's please-I-hear-you-singing-every-morning-in-the-shower look. Rita pouted.

"Come on, please? For me? You don't even have to sing, just come and be sociable."

"I'll probably have paperwork to sort."

"Connie."

"Rita." Rita folded her arms and Connie followed suit, trying not to burst out laughing at the unimpressed look on her girlfriend's face. "Alright, I'll come." She couldn't help smiling at the beaming nurse across from her. "You're beautiful," she blurted out, and blushed.

"Aw, big bad Connie Beauchamp, blushing like a little schoolgirl," Rita teased, poking her leg under the table.

"Like I can't make you go bright red in front of everyone at work," Connie retorted. Even though they'd been together nearly six months, she found a new way of making her tiny blonde nurse stammer or stumble adorably around the ED nearly every day. Having so far tried to keep their relationship on the low down, she knew the staff were adjusting to a more amicable clinical lead – she had tried to stay as formidable and intimidating as before, but it was so hard to scold anyone with the same level of quiet rage now that Rita smiled at her so often. She had a very disarming smile, a smile that could change between cheeky and loving and terrifying and broken in a heartbeat.

"I brought a bottle of a nice red I found." Rita's voice jolted Connie from her daydream.

"That sounds like exactly the thing I need." They never kept any alcohol in the house – out of habit for Rita, and out of respect for Rita on Connie's part. They'd not properly spoken about the drinking, but Connie always tried to hold back, just a little bit, just to be there if Rita needed her to take it away.

"I'll do the dishes, you get the glasses."

Soon, Connie was settled on the sofa, a glass of deep ruby in each hand, watching Rita finish the washing up elbow deep in bubbles. A small smile settled on Connie's lips at the sight of the cheerfully humming nurse. There was something so delicate about the blonde, despite her fiery temper and sometimes sharp tongue. The sleeves of her hoodie were bunched up, making her look even smaller than usual, and Connie was about to set down the wine and wind her arms around that waist when Rita spun around and chucked the tea towel to the side.

"Done! Thank you very much, Mrs Beauchamp," she grinned, accepting the proffered glass and collapsing with a sigh next to her girlfriend.

"You are most welcome, Sister Freeman," Connie nearly purred, leaning in to capture Rita's lips for a kiss. Rita breathed in sharply, drawing Connie closer until their noses were bumping and their hands were cradling the other's cheek, tasting each other and melting into each other as they let the stresses of the day disappear.

"God," Rita said, slightly out of breath, once they had separated. "I love being able to come home to you."

* * *

"You're like – you're like an opposite panda," Rita said happily, curling up on her side so her head was under Connie's chin and her socked feet were tucked under a cushion.

"An opposite panda?" Connie didn't even pretend to understand, stroking the arm next to her and relaxing into the warm body.

"B'cause pandas look really cuddly but they're dangerous when you poke them," Rita explained, and took another sip of wine.

Connie laughed gently. "So I'm opposite because?"

"You scare people but you actually like warm hugs and soft things and sleeping." Rita paused. "Maybe you're Olaf. Are you Olaf?" She burrowed into Connie's neck. "No," came the muffled conclusion. "You're snuggly. You're not a snowman."

"I'm not sure they'd let a snowman be a surgeon, it could get a bit messy. I'd just drip on people."

"That," Rita said and waved her finger in the air, narrowly missing Connie's eye, "is a good point. You can definitely be an opposite panda then."

"Okay." Connie extracted her arm carefully to pick up her own glass and drink carefully from it, aware Rita was slowly sliding down her, nose tucked in to keep it warm. "I think you're a ferocious pompom," she said after a minute. Rita's head popped up indignantly.

"I am not a pompom!"

"Yes you are," Connie ran her fingers through the nurse's hair. "Look, you're all fluffy and squishy and pocket-sized."

"No I think I'm a dragon."

"Goodness, a dragon?" Rita had rotated so she was on her back, pressed tightly against Connie, and Connie began to stretch out too so she was half-lying behind her.

"I am the greatest dragon to exist ever because I can scare everyone."

"You don't scare me," Connie said, taking a sip.

"That's because I _like_ you," Rita said as though it were obvious. "You don't scare people you like, that's mean."

"I see." Connie couldn't keep the fondness out of her voice. "I don't think I've ever met a dragon before."

"I'm the best dragon," Rita reiterated with a flourish of her nearly empty glass.

"I quite agree," Connie murmured, bending her head to plant a kiss on Rita's forehead. Now that Rita was there, she couldn't imagine life without her. She carefully tucked their glasses out of the way on the floor, settling back and unfolding her other leg from underneath her, trying not to jostle the now sleeping nurse, snuffling contentedly, as she wrapped her arms around her. She closed her eyes as she rested her head on top of Rita's, a sudden rush of love for the tiny woman tugging the corners of her mouth into a smile until they both slipped into sleep, one on top of the other.


End file.
